


More Than Willing to Die

by avxry



Series: the first line [7]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Army, Canon Era, Feelings, M/M, Yelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:39:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avxry/pseuds/avxry
Summary: Alexander is willing to die for his country. John doesn't support that notion.





	

**Author's Note:**

> aye i've got wifi again so have this thank u

"I am more than willing to die!"

John Laurens feels his head swim. He stands before Alexander Hamilton in their shared tent, their fellow soldiers asleep in their cots around the rest of the camp. John feels as if he's underwater.

He sputters, without meaning to, "You - you cannot."

"And why not?" Alexander continues, his hissing voice just above a whisper, his temper flaring. Taking a step forward, he prompts, "What is so awful about my willingness to die for my country?"

"You cannot die!" John exclaims, too loudly. His feet are still planted on the ground, his hands hanging limply at his sides. He wants to reach out, to touch his Alexander -

"Who are you to say so?" Alexander argues still, his cheeks burning pink with excitement. "To die for my country would be an honor -"

"Stop!" John bursts. He feels the prick of tears in his eyes. He cannot cry. He will not. He squares his shoulders and tries to convey his passion in his eyes, keeping them locked on Alexander's. "Stop talking about your death as if - as if -"

He cannot express his words; he feels them, inside his head, but they tumble around aimlessly.

Alexander, still fuming, says, "As if what, Laurens?"

"As if I would survive after it," John concludes shakily. He is bearing his soul now, he knows this. Alexander slows.

"Of course you would," Alexander disagrees, but his resolve is swaying. There is something else in his eyes now, the fire dying out.

"I would not," John argues, emotion bleeding through his tone. They're so close now, he could reach out, brush the hair back from Alexander's face, touch his cheek gently. He almost does, but Alexander speaks first.

"You are the strongest man I know," Alexander continues, but his hands are fidgeting. "You would survive anything."

"Anything but this," John chokes out, his voice a whisper. The prick of tears turns into a sting, and his vision is distorted. Through the blur, he can make out Alexander's form moving toward him, his hand reaching out.

Alexander's hand grazes his cheek softly, fingertips ghosting over his skin. "My dear Laurens," he murmurs, his hand finding its place on the curve of John's neck.

John's voice is wobbly, frail, when he whispers, "My Alexander."

Alexander's thumb traces light circles on his collar, and their eyes meet. There is an understanding, a flow of knowledge between them, and before anything else can be said, Alexander's lips are brushing over John's, softly and sweetly.

John's breath catches, but he kisses back, a strangled sound emerging from his throat. His hands shoot up to clasp at the front of Alexander's shirt, holding him in place, and then their lips are moving, conveying words that neither had known how to say.

Alexander is tender, hand placed protectively on the small of John's back, keeping him safe and warm.

John isn't sure what he's doing as he takes a step backward, pulling Alexander with him, but after a few more, his feet hit the cot, and he's dragging Alexander down -

"What are you two _arguing_ about -"

They freeze in terror at the sight of another man, standing in the entrance to their tent, eyebrows raised in shock.

John feels immense fear fill his body, chilling him to the bone, but then determines the identity of the intruder: the Marquis de Lafayette, their good friend.

"Marquis!" Alexander exclaims, taking care to not raise his voice above a whisper. "Do not frighten us like that!"

John can feel the tension leave both their bodies. He's about to say something in agreement with Alexander, but the Marquis speaks first.

"While I am relieved that the pair of you have resolved your issues," he begins, a single brow still raised, "I must advise you to take more care in the future."

John, now calmed down, gives the man a withering look. "Those are big words coming from the man with the most obvious infatuation with the general."

The Marquis' cheeks burn pink, but he does not comment on the jab. Instead, he lets a little smile make its way to his lips. "Be careful," he warns, but adds gently, "but be happy. _Bonne nuit_." 

"Goodnight, Marquis," Alexander nods.

When they are alone once again, they turn to each other. John wants nothing more than to resume their previous engagement, but he still has things to say.

"I need you alive," he says, his voice a firm whisper, his eyes unyielding. "Stay alive for me."

Alexander brings both hands to cup John's face softly, meeting his eyes. "If my life is what you wish," he says, "my life is what you shall have."

They let their foreheads rest on each other, their eyes unparting, their arms around each other.

"You are not permitted to die, Alexander," John demands, his voice betraying his emotion.

Alexander brushing John's hair back and placing a sweet kiss to his lips.

"I'll dedicate my life to you, my dear Laurens."

**Author's Note:**

> this is gross but i kind of like it i'm sorry
> 
> thank you for reading and/or commenting!!


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